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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28864755">What is it about you that I can’t describe?</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladymdc/pseuds/ladymdc'>ladymdc</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Rhack Attack 🥊 [12]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Borderlands (Video Games)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>A good dicking in lieu of an actual apology, Abandonment Issues, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anal Sex, Angel (Borderlands) Lives, Biting, Body Worship, Collars, Dom/sub, Explicit Sexual Content, Hand Jobs, Handsome Jack is an asshole but he's Trying(TM), Lingerie, Love of loooooong legs, M/M, Manipulation, Obsessive Behavior, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Possessive Behavior, Praise Kink, References to unhealthy DS dynamics, Rimming, Stripper Rhys (Borderlands)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 05:56:04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>5,078</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28864755</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladymdc/pseuds/ladymdc</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Rhys was his.</p><p><em>You’re mine,</em> Jack would tell him. <em>Only mine.</em> And it was the truth, the absolute truth. It just— didn’t fully encompass what Jack had felt the first time Rhys kneeled submissively before him of his own volition. Or after, when Jack woke up with those long limbs tangled with his.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Handsome Jack/Rhys (Borderlands)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Rhack Attack 🥊 [12]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1790767</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>72</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>What is it about you that I can’t describe?</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>For <a href="https://twitter.com/dauverney">dauverney</a> who inspired this entire idea. 💛 </p><p>I usually write Jack’s POV well established because while I have a solid headcanon on how I believe Jack processes/deals with realizing his feelings, I feel like it’s difficult to convey that accurately. With that said, this isn’t the work for the level of unreliable narration that Rhys’ POV would bring (as much as I enjoy writing it). So. Hopefully, I did the idea/build here justice <del>including the smut</del>.</p><p>Title is lyrics from: <a href="https://open.spotify.com/track/4Y5dlyFh49HWDt2oTS6kgf?si=GV4cd1v9QDSMyJqI7P3UJA">Control of Me</a> (RIELL).</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>To look at him, one might assume Rhys was wiry and firm, but Jack knew he was actually lithely muscular and pleasingly soft where it mattered. His long limbs loaned themselves helpfully to worming their way around Jack and securing himself in place. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jack considered the pale line of his back as Rhys gripped the pole with nothing but his thighs and bent his body backward in a perfect arch. Thought about watching the flawless skin prickle under his rough palms. The rush of exhilaration at the sight of his dick disappearing into Rhys’ ass. To grip his hips and just</span>
  <em>
    <span> fuck him</span>
  </em>
  <span> into the mattress. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He imagined someone else doing it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jack’s jaw clenched as he forced the image away.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The room filled with wolf whistles as Rhys grabbed the pole and gracefully brought his feet back to the floor. The change in position caused him to face the bar for the first time, and Jack could actually feel the second their eyes locked from across the room.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His thoughts were probably written on his face. And fuck, Jack didn’t care. The fact he was even there was all the evidence Rhys would need. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But as if Jack was just another nameless face, Rhys didn’t even react. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He continued to the edge of the stage, entirely aware of his ability to draw the attention of everyone in the room. Lacy boyshorts led the eyes to seemingly endless legs, which were adorned with tasteful black heels. The audience moved closer as Rhys spun around and dropped slowly to his knees. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Back precisely arched, legs spread just enough to be obscenely suggestive, he cast a glance over his shoulder as someone ran their hand down his calf. A mischievous smirk blessed the man. Then Rhys shifted so a stack of bills could be tucked directly into his lingerie— dangerously close to the barely concealed bulge between his legs. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jack’s hand flexed reactively as he suppressed the urge to grab this asshole by the lapel and beat it into him that people shouldn’t touch what </span>
  <em>
    <span>wasn’t theirs.</span>
  </em>
  
</p><p>
  <span>He could do it. He </span>
  <em>
    <span>should</span>
  </em>
  <span> do it. He was Handsome </span>
  <em>
    <span>fucking</span>
  </em>
  <span> Jack after all. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But he didn’t. He just left. Just like all those weeks ago because yet again, Jack did not know what else to do. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Back in the car, he slammed his hands into the steering wheel in frustration, roaring: </span>
  <em>
    <span>“God damn it.” </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>It had been a pain in the ass to figure out what exactly had happened, how he had ended up flying across the galaxy every other week. Spending longer and longer stretches working at headquarters instead of out on Helios. Not because it required being a genius to wrap his head around it, which Jack was, but because the reason was so fucking simple. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rhys was his.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>You’re mine, </span>
  </em>
  <span>Jack would tell him. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Only mine.</span>
  </em>
  <span> And it was the truth, the absolute truth. It just— didn’t fully encompass what Jack had felt the first time Rhys kneeled submissively before him of his own volition. Or after, when Jack woke up with those long limbs tangled with his. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>If anyone had told him he could ever feel that close to someone again, Jack would have broken their jaw or started shooting. Truthfully, he still would despite knowing it was absolutely fucking possible. Just on principle. Because after </span>
  <em>
    <span>everything,</span>
  </em>
  <span> sex was supposed to be impersonal. Strictly something physical to take the edge off when all else failed him. It was easy to walk away and not care if they found someone else the next day or even the very next minute. But Rhys… </span>
</p><p>
  <span>No one was allowed to touch. Jack had been very specific about that, and Rhys had always followed that rule without fail. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Until now. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jack scrubbed a hand down his face, then dug around in his rucksack. His holo-tablet held the very latest and greatest configurations Hyperion had to offer. Given that Eos was the seat of power for Hyperion, it would be a crime, literally, for anything but Hyperion tech to ever touch it. So, the thing doubled as Jack’s, like, master key to the planet. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>A burst of code flew down the screen as he accessed the club’s security system. Then it went blank before a single line of white text appeared.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Welcome to The Peach Crease, Handsome.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” Jack muttered, flicking his wrist to dismiss the dumbass courtesy he had programmed into it for whatever reason. From there, it took him ten seconds to find the timestamp of when he had left and another four to pull up Rhys’ employee file. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It did not necessarily surprise Jack that Rhys had quit his club, but that didn’t mean he had a super fun time making that discovery. At least, this place upheld the same risk management standards as Jack’s. Sure, it was to safeguard profits more than the employees’ asses. But not everyone was smart enough to realize those two things sort of went hand in hand. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>With facial recognition activated, the feed switched automatically to Rhys. Jack could discern the split second the show was over. Where Rhys decided he had adequately retaliated in kind. He was still there, but further and further away. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jumping to real time, Jack found him in the dressing room. Rhys was slumped into a sofa wearing an oversized hoodie, and that thing about him that had first drawn Jack’s gaze as he had moved around the room, whether he had wanted it to or not, was missing. Any anger Jack felt was suddenly and forcibly redirected from Rhys to himself. Any half-formed thoughts of somehow punishing him were replaced by the very real possibility that—</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jack refused to let that happen. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>His finger slid against the haptic interface to enter split-screen, then he called Rhys.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jack watched him go very still, suspending the conversation he was engaged in with one of the bartenders— the blond one with black-rimmed glasses who looked like he deserved to be shoved in an airlock. Then Rhys spoke briefly, but his expression didn’t so much as flicker. He still looked resigned. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And bitter. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The bartender’s face was mostly concealed by the camera angle, but his hand cut through the air with finality. After a beat, the call went to voicemail. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>As did the next halfway through the second ring. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jack raked his fingers through his hair. The tightness in his chest growing tighter still, tying itself into a knot that began making its way to the pit of his stomach. He was still angry. There was </span>
  <em>
    <span>so much</span>
  </em>
  <span> to be angry about. But it was a cold, hollow sort of anger that threatened to shift into something much more overwhelming.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He typed to keep his mind busy. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Come on, kitten. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Jack messaged. </span>
  <em>
    <span>I just want to talk. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Rhys’ ECHOeye lit up. </span>
  <em>
    <span>You’re a terrible liar. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>That knot loosened fractionally at the easy familiarity. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Are you sure? </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>No. I never know with you. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Rhys leaned forward and put his head in his hands. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Give me a minute. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Good boy. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Rhys shook his head slightly, then stood. The feed switched to a different camera as Rhys moved to get properly dressed, and Jack watched his conversation with the bartender carefully. It seemed this guy was a professional, if not a friend of some sort. His eyes never strayed from Rhys’ face as they spoke, and when Rhys was finished, he turned him firmly by the shoulders, making Rhys look directly at him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He made a vague, almost dismissive gesture with his hand. Followed by a self-deprecating smile. Almost defeated. Nothing like the one Jack was used to seeing from him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was then Jack felt as though he had failed Rhys. Yet another feeling that surprised him though it shouldn’t have. Not after Angel. Not after destroying all of her hope and affection by treating her as an object and nothing more. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But it seemed, this time, Jack did not realize what he was doing far too late. Because when he called Rhys again, he wasn’t ignored. Jack wouldn’t have to live with calling him on occasion and having him never pick up. Only knowing Rhys was alive because he still cared </span>
  <em>
    <span>enough</span>
  </em>
  <span> to allow Jack received notifications on his silent voicemails. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>No, instead, Rhys stepped back and slung his bag over his shoulder. Answering as he began walking down a hallway toward what must be the staff entrance. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That was a lot more than a minute. You must be feeling generous.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m feeling more than a little generous, sweetheart.” Jack adjusted the program settings to expand facial recognition to the citywide surveillance system. “I’m here, aren’t I?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Outside, Rhys leaned against the wall. The argent glow of his ECHOeye casting a soft silvery aura around him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Could you just— not,” Rhys said finally. “I know what you’re doing. But I don’t want to argue either.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The reply brought Jack up short. Rhys wasn’t stupid. He was a hell of a lot smarter than people gave him credit for. But the fact he couldn’t hear what Jack was really saying, or didn’t want to hear it, showed him just how much damage had been done. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Neither do I,” Jack allowed truthfully because he didn’t. He wanted— He pinched his nose between finger and thumb. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jack wanted to be back at the penthouse with his hand in Rhys’ hair while he gazed up at him adoringly. He knew exactly how it would look, how it would play out. His cock stirred a little at the thought, and he dug his nails into his palm. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He wanted Rhys to forget Jack had left and did not come back for him, wanted to kiss his throat and take him to bed like nothing happened. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I wouldn’t have flown across the galaxy just to fight with you. Cut me some slack.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Jack—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He sighed sharply, immediately resentful of the pleasure his name in Rhys’ voice gave him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re the one that cut me off, and I’ve done what I could to move on from that. So, just— tell me why you’re here.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think that should be super obvious, considering it’s the same reason why I stayed away from you.” It was a weakness Jack hated admitting. Even now, knowing it was the only way to get what he wanted. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>On screen, Rhys nodded absently. Didn’t say anything.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Come on, sunshine,” Jack said, voice intentionally pitched lower than usual. “Let me prove it to you.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rhys tugged at the strap of his bag. “I’d like to think about it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ve got some work to catch up on. Take a bath at the penthouse and think on it while I do that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And now we’re back to why.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jack’s lips twitched into a smile, just for a moment. “Is there anything that would satisfy you more than hearing the truth? That it’s where I think you belong?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Probably not,” Rhys breathed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The wind off the sea picked up. It cut in and out as it moved between buildings, ruffling Rhys’ hair. The clouds growing darker in the distance. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Whether you are still mine is up to you, but I left something on the table that might help you decide. I’ll make a call to get you cut loose.” The statement was deliberate in its dishonesty, intentionally lighting on that part of Rhys that always responded to Jack making a decision for him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>There was a pause as Rhys closed his eyes, slipping into partial darkness for a moment. “There’s no need,” he said. “I was already headed out.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Perfect,” Jack told him. “Stay put, kitten, I’ll send a car like I always do.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thanks, Jack,” Rhys said, glancing up at the sky. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jack smirked slightly. “I’ll be up in a few hours.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Once that was taken care of, he tossed the </span>
  <span>holo-tablet</span>
  <span> aside. Usually, Jack would watch him dance. Enjoy knowing Rhys was his own personal source of pleasure and no one else’s. Then leave. Rhys was all he had been interested in anyway. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>When Rhys was done for the night, a car would take him to Jack’s shuttle to be delivered to the penthouse, where he would surrender total control of his body to Jack. Allowing him to use Rhys how ever he pleased. Sometimes Jack would do so roughly, leaving red welts in his flesh, while others, he’d treat Rhys like glass. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It should only take twenty minutes for the security notification to hit his wristband. At least then, there wouldn’t be much space for Rhys to change his mind. It wouldn’t gnaw at Jack as much. He was obsessing, but there wasn’t much else he could do. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>If he pushed— </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jack looked out over the city. Eos was the opposite of Pandora, blue and green and lush. Notus shined brightly in the night; the sea beyond was almost silver. In the distance, headquarters emerged from the rolling hills. The buildings tall and distinctly angular, shining beacons of white metal and glass. And as Jack drove through the outside perimeter, his wristband pinged. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He felt like he could breathe a little easier. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He even managed to work for several hours. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jack had not stepped foot in the penthouse here since the morning he had left Rhys sleeping in bed. He had been planetside, sure, but just for whatever he needed to do before departing. Everything was pristine— the sleek kitchen, the wooden floors, the floor-to-ceiling windows, even Rhys. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He was sitting back on his heels in the middle of the open area. Head bowed gracefully; naked, save for the black thigh highs. Exactly as he had been the last time.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Except he was collared. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The relief Jack felt was tangible. He felt it on his skin and in his chest. He wanted to shrug it off, but he could not. Jack knew that now.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That looks as good on you as I thought it would, kitten.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>His cock hanging limply between his legs twitched with interest, threatened to swell. The power Jack wielded over him… He knew the sound of his voice alone was enough to get Rhys going. That he would do anything for Jack, anything he whispered in his ear. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thank you,” Rhys said quietly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jack nodded as if he had been waiting for that and grabbed a chair from the dining table. Setting it in front of Rhys, he stood over him, studying him a moment. The curve of lashes across his skin, movement of his throat as he swallowed. The contrast between them. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Suits were not Jack’s thing unless it was to delicately persuade or insidiously coerce. The one Jack wore seamlessly did both. Something about the stark black and simple cut brought him forward, ahead of his clothes. One button fastened, just enough to hold the coat closed— a tasteful splash of color. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Perfect for the occasion. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He undid the button as he sat down, splaying his legs wide. “I know you don’t want to talk about it, but you let someone touch you tonight. More than once.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>No reply. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Outside, the rain wasn’t sure what it wanted to do, whether it wanted to disappear back into the clouds or swallow the world below. There was something about the sound that was enticing. Adding to the tension of the moment.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jack hooked a finger under Rhys’ chin and tipped his head up. A blush automatically bled into his cheeks the moment their eyes locked. Jack grazed his cheek lightly with his fingertips. Gliding his thumb along the sharp cheekbone.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rhys’ skin was smooth and soft, cold to the touch on the surface. Jack wondered how long Rhys had been sitting there, just like this, waiting for him. How much his knees ached from the hardwood. His cock thickened a little at the thought. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know you hate it just as much as I do,” Jack continued. “But did it make you feel better at least?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Disappointment showed briefly on Rhys’ face, which was exquisite as always with the color high on his cheeks. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not at all,” Rhys said. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jack petted his hair a moment, combing his fingers through the long, soft strands. Then trailed lower, dipping beneath the black leather to touch the skin beneath. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And what about this?” Jack asked him softly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m not sure yet,” he said, obviously struggling to maintain the eye contact Jack had so pointedly established. “I don’t want to misunderstand.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jack hummed thoughtfully and began tracing the circles on Rhys’ skin there, slowly spiraling toward the center of the tattoo. Rhys’ breathing hitched at the touch. His neck was a point of weakness Jack enjoyed. A vulnerability to be taken advantage of. However, Jack did not want Rhys’ submission out of fear or a sense of pressure or only a reaction to his manipulation. Jack had done what was necessary to get him here, but going forward… </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“There’s nothing to misunderstand,” he said. “You’re mine. Only mine.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re the only one of us who has ever questioned that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jack looked down at him with approval. And possession. And no attempt to disguise either one. The ring on his finger glinted in the light as he touched Rhys’ lip with the pad of his thumb. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I said I wouldn’t do anything to you that you didn’t want me to,” he began in a low voice. “And then I did. It won’t happen again. I promise you that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>At that, Rhys’ expression shifted, lost its tension. It was the expression Jack had been missing. That blend of trust, relief, and desperate gratitude. Jack took Rhys’ face between his hands and kissed him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rhys smelled like citrus and flowers from the violently colored bath thingys he liked. He tasted like Jack’s toothpaste. Jack slid his fingers up into Rhys’ hair and around to the back of his neck. Arching his head back further as Jack kissed him over and over.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He broke away and bent lower, mouth on Rhys’ throat. He could feel the shift of muscles and tendons, the anticipation— then sunk his teeth into Rhys’ skin. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>A shocked, pleading sound left Rhys as he grasped Jack’s shoulder, his metal hand landing firmly on Jack’s thigh as if to keep himself steady. Jack moved up to his mouth again, blind, chasing after the sound. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jack lightly bit his lower lip and sat back in the chair. He crooked one finger at Rhys, then pointed to his lap. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Right here, sweetness.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Without hesitation, Rhys did as instructed. His cock twitched against Rhys, trapped between them, and Jack felt him grind his hips ever-so-slightly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ah-ah, be still. I want to have a look at you.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rhys placed his hands, palms down on his thighs, right over the silk of his stockings as he settled in place. Jack made a noise of satisfaction as he took in Rhys’ body. The flush on his cheeks had spread to his chest, and his cock was fully erect. Jack smoothed a hand over the stark blue tattoos and down his side. His fingertips brushed against the dark hair at the base of his cock before giving it a single stroke from root to tip.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rhys’ eyes closed, and he moaned. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The thigh highs are a nice touch.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I thought you’d appreciate how they matched your gift.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jack stroked again. “Black is a versatile color, kitten.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I didn’t want to wear anything you hadn’t given me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Have I really given you so little? I’ll have to fix that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jack gave him another absent stroke while examining the mark on his neck. It was red and angry; Jack could even see the imprint of his teeth. Come tomorrow, it would purple, darkening enough so it would glow just as beautifully as his skin. He touched it lightly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Starting with some more of these,” he said. “They’ll look perfect on you the next time you’re on stage.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Will you be there?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What’s the point in giving you something if I can’t watch you show it off?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Jack…” he breathed, throbbing in his grip. Jack obliged, smoothing his thumb over the head before stroking him again. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Lean back, hands on my knees, princess.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>His body slid away from Jack’s. Belly to the ceiling and his ass to Jack’s hips, Rhys put more pressure on the heavy arousal between his legs. But he was way more interested in the view.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, there. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Look</span>
  </em>
  <span> at you. That’s the stuff,” Jack said, his hand sliding easily, up and down his shaft. “Don’t you agree?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes.” Rhys’ hips rolled slightly to meet the next downstroke. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I told you to stay still,” Jack said, digging his fingers into Rhys’ hip hard enough to bruise. “If you want to do something, you can watch me touch you for a bit. Okay?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s been a while.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It has,” he whispered. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It didn’t take long for Rhys to start shaking with the effort of keeping still. Biting his lip, he watched Jack play with him. Consistent long, firm strokes, and sometimes he’d stop entirely to toy with the tip for a bit— only intent on dragging a constant stream of involuntarily moans from Rhys. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>His breathing started to pick up, and Jack could read him like a book. He was close, but not close enough. Jack encircled his balls with his free hand, pushing them up around the base as the hand on Rhys’ cock sped up. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Jack—” Rhys licked his lips, fingers digging into Jack’s legs, body drawing tight like a bow. “Jack, please. I—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Gorgeous,” Jack muttered. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m so close.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His balls were tightening up, his cock swelling, and then Rhys jerked, sucking in a sharp breath as Jack squeezed him— cock and balls— just edging towards the wrong side of painful. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I imagine you were, sweetness. But you’re going to come on my dick. Or you’re not going to at all.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rhys let out a shuddering breath as he nodded. He wasn’t the only one who hadn’t come. Jack’s entire body throbbed with the want for it. Jack beckoned with his fingers, and Rhys shifted his weight.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He snatched up Rhys’ hand in the process, pressing the heat of his palm into the metal to pull him close. Rhys took the hint and twined his arms around Jack. A hand slid into his hair as Jack kissed him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It had been too long since Rhys had last touched him, and indulging Rhys was so easy when the want had been there for so long. Pushed down and ignored but present all the same. He only broke away to mouth at Rhys’ throat. With teeth and tongue, he left a bruising trail of kisses along his shoulder, stopping just at the slope of his upper arm to bite. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And then again on his chest. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alright, this chair is uncomfortable as fuck. So, to the bedroom we go,” Jack said, grabbing Rhys’ ass and standing with ease. Rhys instantly wrapped his legs tightly around Jack’s waist as he started forward. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Maneuvering Rhys into the middle of the bed was simple. He might technically be taller, but Jack was larger. His frame covering Rhys entirely as he kneeled over him on all fours. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Did you prepare yourself for me?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No,” he said, smiling slightly. “You only told me to take a bath and to make a decision.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jack made a pleased sound in the back of his throat and sat back on his heels. “Over and up then.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Head down, ass in the air, Jack trailed his fingers down the back of Rhys’ thigh, almost tickling him. Then he smiled to himself as he noticed the bottle of lube already on the bed. Rhys had prepared, somewhat. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He smoothed his hands over Rhys’ skin, spreading him slightly while he decided what he wanted to do exactly. It took Jack a moment to notice Rhys was holding his breath as he waited for that decision, and he seemed more than a little surprised when Jack dragged his tongue over him. The skin going tight as Rhys gasped but quickly began to soften and relax. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jack ate Rhys out like he didn’t have anywhere else in the universe to be. Languorous flat strokes and deliberately licking past the tight ring of muscle until Jack could easily get his tongue practically inside Rhys’ body. Throughout, Rhys gasped, and his cock dripped as Jack touched him with small tugging motions. Something loosely stimulating but firm and insistent.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Then Jack pulled away. Rhys moaned loudly into the pillow, back arching as he sunk two fingers in to the knuckle. Jack leaned down and slowly swirled his tongue around the tight, stretched skin. He kept working, licking and sucking, pushing his tongue as far into Rhys as he could until Rhys bit off a cry, squirming a little for the first time.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Jack,” he said in unnecessary warning. His hand moved to the base of his cock and tightened, and Rhys winced. But Jack couldn’t tell whether it was from that or the teeth sinking into his cheek. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Either way, once the potential orgasmic crisis had been averted, Jack didn’t have the wherewithal to deprive himself any longer. He took his dick out, and then he was squeezing lube into the palm of his hand. Giving himself one stroke before pushing in. And the </span>
  <em>
    <span>sound </span>
  </em>
  <span>Rhys made as he bottomed out was almost too much. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jack was </span>
  <em>
    <span>sweating. </span>
  </em>
  <span>He should have taken off his fucking suit, but it was too late now. He didn’t want to stop. Not yet. His cock was so hard, so big where it was entering Rhys, and every movement of hips sent pleasure surging through his veins. As always, Jack knew when he had found the right angle because Rhys began making a wonderful amount of noise.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Christ. I’ll never forget the first time I got my dick in this tight little ass of yours. I thought I was going to ruin you.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He couldn’t pull his gaze away from his dick moving in and out of Rhys. And when he did, it was to see all that pale skin spread out before him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I guess I still might.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rhys cried out, and Jack could feel his orgasm coming, could feel the contractions— Jack dug his fingers into his hips and pulled back firmly, holding Rhys in place with his dick buried deep in his ass. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not yet. Don’t do it, Rhysie. Be good for me.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rhys made a noise like Jack had gutted him; his entire body trembled at having been denied again. Jack trailed his hand up Rhys’ spine soothingly. His chest visibly expanded as Rhys attempted to pull in deep, even breaths, to keep control over his body. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thaaaaaaaaat’s it,” Jack said. “Good boy.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jack rubbed little circles into the small of his back. “As much as I’m enjoying watching you take me so well, I can’t see that pretty face of yours come undone this way, can I?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No,” Rhys answered, voice rough.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jack pulled away to start shucking clothes, and Rhys automatically rolled onto his back. Tears were welled in his eyes, but he wouldn’t safeword over this. Rhys had been on the receiving end of far worse and thanked Jack for it. However, given… </span>
  <em>
    <span>events, </span>
  </em>
  <span>he was probably struggling to not let it all affect him. Part of Jack wished he just didn’t care, but somewhere along the way, Rhys had become far more than just his favorite plaything. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He forced Rhys’ hips up and legs wider for no real purpose beyond wanting to see Rhys look as vulnerable as possible before moving over him. As he slid back inside, Rhys clenched his hands in the sheets over his head as if to ensure he kept them to himself. Then Jack bent his head down to kiss Rhys as he started to move— torturously slow. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you have any idea how much I like it when you’re trying </span>
  <em>
    <span>so hard</span>
  </em>
  <span> to please me?” Rhys gasped into his mouth as Jack put a little force behind the next thrust. “I thought about tying you down, but that would have just taken away from it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rhys moaned, his kisses turning imprecise and uncaring as Jack began to chase after his own pleasure by thrusting the entire length of his cock in and out of Rhys’ body. The edges of his teeth were sharp against his tongue, but Jack just kept kissing him. He didn’t trust himself to not say any of the things he didn’t want to say. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He was close— he could feel the orgasm building low in his spine, tightening his balls. His tongue was as deep in Rhys’ mouth as Jack was inside him, and— </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And then Rhys’ hands were suddenly in his hair as he contracted around him. His whole body went rigid, clamping down and Jack fucked him through it because it would only make his that much more spectacular. And spectacular it was. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Pleasure cracked like a whip across his nerves, and Jack groaned as he filled Rhys just the way he wanted to. He exhaled, grinding into Rhys as he came down from the crest of it. His heart rate was up, and his face felt warm, and he gave Rhys a lazy kiss before rolling off of him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Distantly, Jack realized his socks were still on. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He wrapped an arm around Rhys’ neck and dragged him close. He could almost span the width of the small of Rhys’ back with his hand spread wide. Jack drew circles in the skin there with his thumb.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rhys’ breath brushed lightly against Jack’s collarbone as he sighed. It lit that warmth inside Jack that had nothing to do with the exertion or Rhys’ body heat, but he no longer needed to try to categorize it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rhys didn’t covet his power or his money, just him, and Jack couldn’t stop thinking about how much he wanted that and wanted Rhys for it. A thought crossed his mind then. Loud but… not unwelcome. It didn’t send him reeling but instead fit nicely into the sense of belonging Rhys gave him. Of being sure, for once, that he was where he was supposed to be.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I want you to go to Helios with me when I have to leave.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>There was a beat of silence before Rhys said, “Is that an order, or are you asking me?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m asking you, sunshine.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jack could feel his mouth pull into an unseen smile. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sure, Jack,” Rhys said. “Whatever you want.” </span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Given the BL writers' use of Greek mythology, I always try to stick with that when naming things in my works.<br/>♦︎ Eos (the Dawn), where I stick Hyperion HQ for my fics, is one of the children of the Titan Hyperion.<br/>♦︎ Notus, the city I mention in passing, is the god of the south wind and one of Eos' children. He was the wet, storm-bringing god of late summer and early autumn. Felt fitting for a city I made up on a bay.</p><p>As always, thanks for reading. ♥️</p></blockquote></div></div>
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